Drosselmeyer's Return
by PenAndInkPrincess
Summary: What would happen if Drosselmeyer once again had access to Gold Crown Town?
1. Chapter 1

"Ahiru! Are you up yet, idiot?" Fakir yelled up the stairs in aggravation.

"It's Saturday!" She retorted.

"Well breakfast is ready, so get down here!"

"Okay, okay. Geesh, I'm coming!"

She bounded down the stairs, tripping at the bottom. Fakir caught her as she fell and said in exasperation, "can't you do ANYTHING without injuring yourself?" She stuck her tongue out at him, and pushed past him towards the kitchen.

"In case you didn't notice…I didn't get hurt, so hmph!"

They continued to argue over breakfast, much to Charon's amusement; completely unaware that a simple mistake would soon change their lives for the worst.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Autor stepped out of his door, blinking from the bright sunlight. Shutting the door to his lair behind him, he locked it and walked down the street towards the clock tower at the center of town.

When he finally reached the top, perspiration had broken out on his forehead. He pushed his glasses up while pondering the scene before him. At the school library, he had read about a machine that Drosselmeyer had built to write stories. The parts that lay in front of him looked like such a machine, despite the haphazard fashion they were thrown about.

Smiling a bit in anticipation, he began to organize the parts, figuring out what parts were needed to resurrect the machine. Autor merely wished to add it to his collection, not to actually get it in working shape again. Somewhere distant, watching from his gears, Drosselmeyer smiled malevolently.

"_Oh my, Autor. That's dangerous, very dangerous." _

XXXXXX

As the sun set, Autor sat back, wiping his sleeve across his forehead. At last! He grinned at his completed work. After much deliberation, the bibliophile had decided to leave it where it was, so he had reconnected everything according to the blue prints he had found and painstakingly copied by hand. He couldn't imagine why it had been taken apart, but now it was back together. He was proud of his work.

Looking out of the window, he was startled to realize how late it was. Brushing his dusty hands on the legs of his pants, he stood and descended the staircase, even as the quill began to slowly scratch across the page, unnoticed by Autor.

XXXXXXX

"_At last," _Drosselmeyer chuckled to himself, much to Azura's surprise. _"I will have my revenge on that boy, Fakir. And the best way to make him suffer…is to make the one he loves suffer." _As Azura stared at him, wide-eyed in distress at his intention of hurting Fakir, the manic author threw back his head and laughed, plotting his latest-and greatest-tragedy yet.

"_The hyper, joyful girl jumped from her seat at the table, eager to help her adoptive father cook. But as she stood up, a piercing pain struck her heart and she collapsed to the ground, screaming in agony."_

XXXXXXX

Fakir leapt from his seat, bolting to Ahiru's side in an instant. The young red-headed girl lay on the ground, arching her back in pain as she clutched at her chest.

"Ahiru? Ahiru!" Fakir stroked her cheek, desperate to bring her out of her pain-induced stupor. "Ahiru? Ahiru, can you hear me?" Her breath was coming in rabid gasps, and her eyes were glazed in torture.

A knock sounded at the door as Fakir and Charon knelt on either side of Ahiru, but when the girl screamed again, Rue burst into the room, even as Mytho had his hand raised to knock again.

"What's the matter?" Rue's crimson eyes were distressed when she heard the screams of her friend, and she dashed to where the younger girl lay immediately. "Ahiru?" She looked up at Fakir and Charon, "what's the matter with her? What's wrong?"

"I don't know!" Fakir said from between clenched teeth. He was as distressed as Rue at Ahiru's sudden collapse.

"I'll go get a doctor!" Mytho called from the doorway, dashing away into the night.

XXXXXXX

Fakir stood up as soon as the doctor came down the staircase. She took one look at his expression and shrugged.

"I don't know what it could be. I tested her for any possible reason I could think of, but nothing fits. My best guess would be that it's stress-induced. I gave her a sedative to let her sleep and rest, and I'll leave some medicine behind for pain."

"Thank you," Charon said. Fakir had already dashed up the stairs to Ahiru's room, Rue closely at his heels, and Mytho bringing up the rear.

Ahiru lay on her bed, her face pinched in discomfort even as she slept. Her red hair was unbraided and sprawled about her the bed.

Fakir gently brushed a strand from her face. His face was drawn with worry. Ahiru wasn't supposed to be ill, she was supposed to be happy, and care-free, and never shut up.

"What have you done to distress her?" Rue accused from the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes were narrowed.

"Nothing!" He snapped. But even as he said it, he was unsure. He always was arguing with her. She had never seemed to care before, but had she finally had enough?

"_That's right," _sneered Drosselmeyer, _"suffer. Wonder if you're the cause. You'll regret ever stopping my beautiful tragedy you little pest." _

XXXXXXXX

The next morning, Ahiru's eyes fluttered open. She felt a dull ache in her chest, and winced as it throbbed when she tried to move. She started when she saw Fakir's face, just inches from her own. His head was resting on his crossed arms and he had dark circles under eyes, as though from an all-night vigil.

"You're awake?" Ahiru turned her head tentatively towards Mytho's voice, hesitant so she would not make the pain in her chest any worse. He crossed over to her bed, and she noticed Rue, asleep in a chair that had not previously occupied her small room. "How do you feel?" He queried, genuine concern in his golden eyes.

"Mm," she said, noncommittally. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to worry anyone at the same time.

"I take it that means yes, but in an Ahiru-like way because you don't want to worry me." Mytho smiled gently and Ahiru looked at him, surprised that he had read her so easily.

"A little," she admitted.

"Here." He held out a small white pill and a glass of water he had taken from the bedside table. "The doctor left it."

She took it, gratefully, and swallowed, grimacing a bit at the pill's bitter taste. She looked back up at him, "did they stay up all night?" She gestured towards the sleeping Fakir and Rue.

"Yes," Mytho smiled fondly at them, "they didn't want to sleep in case you woke up and needed something. But sleep got the best of them in the end."

Ahiru smiled drowsily; the pain medicine was already taking affect. Mytho noticed her heavy eye lids and chuckled to himself. "Go ahead and sleep. You must be tired."

"Thanks," she murmured as she drifted into the hazy in-between of sleep and consciousness.

XXXXXXXXX

Unaware of the tragedy he had inadvertently set in motion, Autor sat his piano, composing a new piece. It was inspired by Ahiru; a lively tune that jumped from chord to chord as Ahiru jumped from thought to thought. He smiled in spite of himself. Even though he did not know the girl very well, ever since the end of the story, he had secretly admired her strength and courage in that final battle. She had even begun to befriend him, even though he had to insist she stayed out of the library, as she was simply too noisy.

Returning to the piece, he thought fleetingly of the machine, but the thought was gone as soon as it had popped into his mind.

XXXXXXXX

"_Now, now," _chided Drosselmeyer, _"can't have you interfering. Push it out of your thoughts…even though I must say that I'm in your debt for allowing me access once again to this world."_

Unnoticed by the man gazing pensively at the start of his new work, a pair of blue eyes watched in concern for the fate of her friends. "_Don't hurt Ahiru and Fakir zura. Or Mytho or Rue zura." _The little puppet girl whispered.

**Domo Arigato everyone! I hope you enjoy my new fanfic! This is just the first chapter, and I'm sorry it's so short, but please come back soon and comment! Thank you! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Only a day after collapsing on the kitchen floor, Ahiru was ready to get out of bed again. Fakir, however, disagreed…

"Idiot! You collapsed from chest pain yesterday and you want to get up already! You're such a moron!"

"You're the moron! It's my heart! I should know if I can get up or not!"

"Evidently not, you simpleton! You need to stay in bed!"

Ahiru, in defiance, still tried to get up. But to her supreme chagrin, she swayed and Fakir had to catch her.

"Told you idiot," he said, in a slightly softer tone. He helped her lay back down, covering her with her quilt. "Are you in any pain?" He asked, his eyes softer than normal.

Ahiru, pouting from shame, shook her head, even though her chest had begun to hurt again. She didn't have to tell Fakir that though. He looked at her doubtfully, but just shook his head. "Then get some sleep." He walked out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

Mytho and Rue, sitting at the table, looked at each other in amusement. They had heard the first part of the conversation, and judging from Fakir's slightly blushing face, they guessed the latter part.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"_Yes, yes," _crooned Drosselmeyer from his station at his cogs, _"enjoy your blooming love right now. Smile while you can…"_

Uzura, observing from her vantage point on another cog, worried for her friends. If Ahiru was sick, then she and Fakir couldn't be lovey-dovey! She didn't like that the old man was making Ahiru hurt and tried to think what she could do, as she tapped quietly on her drum.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Fakir?" Asked Mytho, looking at his friend. "Do you think Ahiru's illness could be more than it seems?"

"What do you mean?" Fakir was puzzled.

"Well, I haven't wanted to alarm anyone, but I've been sensing something dark in the atmosphere, ever since Ahiru collapsed last night."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's almost like it was…" Mytho hesitated, unsure of how Fakir would receive the next part. "It's almost like it was when we were still in Drosselmeyer's story."

XXXXXXXXXX

"_Drat, drat, drat." _Fumed the vexed Drosselmeyer. _"That blasted Prince is too observant! I suppose for now I should make the duck-girl better…" _He grinned, his plot for this tragedy darkening in his mind. _"All the more tragic when her health seems to spontaneously diminish just as soon as she gets better." _

The author didn't even notice the absence of the little puppet girl, who was wandering through the forest of Gold Crown Town.

XXXXXXXX

The next Monday, Fakir, Mytho, and Rue barely made it out of the way of the blonde and pink streak that glomped Ahiru, throwing her to the ground in her friend's embrace.

"Ahiru! We heard you collapsed! You're so lucky! You could've hit your head, and caused internal bleeding in your brain, and died slowly in agony in a hospital and-"

"What happened!" Pike interrupted Lillie, whose eyes were slowly starting to sparkle at her soliloquy.

"Um…guys…can't…_breathe_." Pike and Lillie loosened their grip slightly from around Ahiru's neck, but still kept her pinned to the ground. Fakir and Rue glared at them in annoyance. Mytho just looked at them in surprise.

"So, so, so?" The two girls were looking at Ahiru in raptured anticipation.

"Um…yes I fainted, but no I don't know why."

"Oh! A mysterious illness that could slowly drain your life as those around look on in horror and are powerless to stop your demise!"

At this, Fakir grabbed Ahiru's hand, dragging her towards the ballet building. She stumbled and complained in protest, but Fakir merely slowed down, not stopping. He couldn't stand Lillie, especially since she had been responsible for Ahiru almost drowning in the winter.

"Ack! Fakir…stop! I…oof!" Fakir had to stop when she hit the ground. He looked at her in aggravation.

"Geez idiot…can't you do anything right?"

"Yes! You were the one dragging me!"

He had no response to this. Rue and Mytho were looking on in amusement from their position on the stairs of the ballet building. After saying good bye to Fakir as he headed for the writing building, Ahiru bounded over. Mytho and Rue winced as she tripped and sprawled out on the stairs.

"Ahiru! Are you okay?" Rue helped her friend up.

"Yeah…" Ahiru stood up, rubbing her head.

Mytho and Rue just looked at each other in amazement at Ahiru's new level of clutziness.

XXXXXXXXX

After a full day of practice, lessons, and then the inevitable clean-up duty at the end of the day, Ahiru was exhausted. She walked out of the ballet building, her shoulders drooping slightly from being tired. When she looked up, she was surprised to Fakir waiting for her.

"Fakir?"

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Um…I mean…I… …never mind."

"Idiot, finish your sentences!"

"You were waiting for me?"

"Yeah…I was…" He blushed slightly, pink creeping up his cheeks. She smiled and looped her arm around his, much to his surprise. But he didn't pull away, and they walked back to Charon's that way; arm in arm.

When they got back to the house, they found a note tacked to the door. They both ran to an abandoned barn, where they found Uzura and a highly-distressed kidnapper who pleaded with them to take the puppet girl. Later that night, Uzura told them why she had returned.

**Author's Note: Sorry to interrupt like this, but if you want to read the little story about Uzura and her kidnapper, please check out "Uzura and Her Drum." Okay. Resume reading…now!**

XXXXXXXX

Fakir pinched the bridge of his nose, as he ran Uzura's story back through his head. "So…Drosselmeyer wants revenge?"

"And to do that, he's going to hurt Ahiru?" Mytho finished. Ahiru sat at one of the chairs opposite the prince, looking down at her lap.

Uzura nodded, for once not beating her drum.

"But wasn't his machine destroyed?" Rue asked. She was perturbed that Drosselmeyer would dare hurt Ahiru. Hadn't the girl been through enough?

"I don't know zura," said the little puppet girl. She had been too busy beating on her drum to notice that Autor had put the machine back together. "It had something to do with Autor zura!" She remembered Drosselmeyer saying something about him.

"What?" Fakir's head snapped up at the mention of Autor. "What about him?"

"I don't know zura…the man wanted to thank him zura!"

"Well then," Fakir said, barely restraining his anger at Autor, "then I think I need to have a conversation with him."

He stood up, and Mytho followed suit. When Fakir shot a questioning look towards him, the golden-eyed boy merely shrugged. "I don't think it would be wise to let you go alone."

"I'm going too!" Ahiru asserted from her place at the table.

"No you're not." Fakir said.

"Why not?"

"For this one time…can you just listen to me?"

"…fine." Fakir blinked in surprise. He already had a list in his head of what she would respond with…this wasn't on that list. He and Mytho headed towards Autor's house, leaving Rue and Ahiru at Charon's.

XXXXXXXXXX

"_Curse that puppet! Interfering in my tragedy!" _Drosselmeyer stared angrily at the cog, wondering how he could salvage this unexpected plot. It didn't take long in his dark, twisted mind, and as the details fell into place, he smiled. _"Oh how delicious…how delicious indeed…" _


	3. Chapter 3

An insistent knocking brought Autor's attention from the book he was reading. He considered pretending that he wasn't home so he could finish the novel, but when he heard Fakir's voice he sighed and opened the door.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk with you." Fakir's voice was tight with barely-restrained irritation. Autor raised an eyebrow but stepped back from the door, gesturing that he and Mytho should come in. Fakir whirled around as soon as the door had shut, his green eyes piercing in his anger.

"What the hell did you do to give Drosselmeyer his power back? Didn't you learn anything?"

Autor blinked, surprised; but he recovered in record time. "I do not have the faintest idea what you are ranting on about Fakir."

"Oh, really? Then can you explain why Drosselmeyer can suddenly write stories and affect those in Gold Crown Town again?"

Autor stood with one hand on his hip, considering whether he should tell Fakir about the resurrection of the machine. Instead he settled with, "do you?"

"If I did, do you think I would be here?" Fakir growled, agitated at Autor's aloofness.

"Autor, can you think of anything that would give Drosselmeyer this power back?" Autor turned his attention to Mytho, who spoke more calmly than his knight. Autor considered keeping the knowledge of the machine to himself, but Mytho continued.

"He's recently hurt Ahiru, and we have reason to believe that he will do so again if we cannot stop him."

Autor was stunned. Why would his idol want to hurt Ahiru? Unless…it was to get revenge against Fakir. In that case, Ahiru would most likely have to suffer unimaginable tragedy. The worse she suffered, the worse Fakir suffered… Autor decided to tell them about the machine.

When he was finished, he found himself suddenly thrown against the wall, Fakir gripping the collar of his shirt.

"You IDIOT! After all we worked for to remove Drosselmeyer's influence! You decide to hand the power back to him! What kind of daft thought would possess you do that?"

"Fakir." Mytho placed his hand on Fakir's arm. "Let him go. He didn't mean any harm. We can still stop Drosselmeyer's influence."

Slowly, Fakir released Autor. But his eyes still smoldered in resentment. "Do you know what you have done?" Fakir spat from between clenched teeth.

For once, Autor had no response, sarcastic or otherwise.

"Don't worry Fakir; we'll just dismantle it again. And this time…we'll make sure that it can't be put back together." Mytho's golden eyes shone with determination.

XXXXXXXXX

"_No, no, no…this simply will not do. I cannot have them ruining this tragedy…"_

XXXXXXXXX

"Ahiru? Are you alright?" Rue looked worriedly at the younger girl, who had become pale.

"No…no. I'm alright." This wasn't the truth, however. Her head had started to hurt, and her chest was once again throbbing; but she didn't want to worry Rue.

"I don't really believe that…but I suppose that there is no way I can prove you're lying."

Ahiru walked over to the window, concerned that Mytho and Fakir had not returned yet. It was starting to grow dark, the sun just a golden line on the horizon.

"Do you think we should go see if they're still at Autor's house, Rue?"

"I suppose so. "

Together, the two girls stepped out of the house, leaving a note for Charon saying where they were going. The evening breeze teased their hair, blowing the raven and red locks in its liveliness.

Nothing seemed amiss until they were two blocks away from the Academy. Dark clouds swirled around the center clock tower, a dark, angry onyx that seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. A sudden, harsher wind almost knocked the two girls off of their feet.

"Rue, what's…going on?" Ahiru had to shout to be heard over the shrieking wind that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"I don't know. But we need to find Mytho and Fakir…fast! Something is definitely wrong."

The two girls huddled together in an attempt to ward off the wind that threatened to knock them to the ground with every step they took.

XXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, Autor, Fakir, and Mytho were also headed towards the clock tower.

The wind was even more severe at Autor's, and the three teenagers had to lean into the gales to even have a chance of moving forward.

XXXXXXXX

"_You shall not ruin my beautiful tragedy this time!" _The enraged Drosselmeyer growled from his position at his cogs.

XXXXXXX

"Fakir!" Fakir looked up, startled when he heard the faint trace of Ahiru's voice, almost completely drowned out by the howling of the wind.

"Ahiru?" He called in return, unsure if his ears were playing tricks on him. He squinted against the debris that were being thrown at his face.

"I'm over here!" She called in response.

"Stay where you are! We'll come find you!"

"Okay!"

It took a good ten minutes to traverse the few yards that separated the two groups, and the wind fought against them all the way. They found the two girls huddled in a small alleyway niche that offered at least a small amount of protection from the hurricane-force gusts.

"So…this is Drosselmeyer's influence?" Autor was talking to himself, but he got a sharp look of annoyance from a pair of green eyes as well as a pair of red eyes; the resemblance would have been comically similar under any other circumstance.

"The only chance we have of stopping the entire town from being ripped apart is to dismantle the machine…posthaste." A surprised Rue and Ahiru looked at Mytho.

"Didn't we already dismantle that thing once?" At Rue's inquiry, Fakir shot an aggravated look at Autor. Rue got the message.

"What would possess you to put that thing back together?" Really, thought Autor, even the speech pattern between Rue and Fakir when they were angry was similar. He was slightly amused, but quickly snapped back to reality.

"I didn't know that it would give him his power back. Pardon me, but I believe I was excluded from that particular detail." Autor's pride was stinging a bit at this omission.

"The storm will only grow worse. For now, we need to stop this," Fakir said. "Then we'll discuss whose fault it is," he promised menacingly.

After a few minutes of debate, including an inescapable argument between Fakir and Ahiru, it was decided that all five of them would work together to make it to the clock tower. They held hands, Ahiru and Rue spaced between the boys to at least alleviate some awkwardness.

They were only a few feet from the entrance of the clock tower when a sharp gust of wind separated Ahiru's hand from Autor's. She was left holding Fakir's hand. He noticed, for the first time, a tornado was speeding towards them.

"Run for it!" He shouted. They complied, and he dragged Ahiru along with him when she stumbled and fell.

He was only inches from the door where the others waited inside when he felt the pressure from the tornado. With sinking terror, he felt Ahiru's hand slipping from his own as she was tossed from her feet by the strength of the winds. He spun around as her hand came loose from his, intending to grab it again. But he could only watch in frozen horror as the girl he loved was wrenched away, sucked into the funnel and torn from his sight. He was so horrified; he didn't even notice that Drosselmeyer's pleased laughter filled the air, louder even than the roar of the tornado.

**Don't worry! This is not the end for our brave characters. They merely must suffer their share of tragedy until the sweet, sweet promise of Forever After can be enjoyed. **

…**oh, gosh…I'm starting to sound like Drosselmeyer! *gulp* O.o**


	4. Chapter 4

"AHIRU!"

Fakir screamed at the top of his lungs. Autor and Mytho grabbed him from behind and yanked him into the dark chamber, wrenching the door shut against the force of the howling wind.

"Ahiru!" He cried again, throwing himself against the door even as Mytho and Autor fought to keep him away from it. "Ahiru!"

He was stopped by a stinging force against his cheek that knocked him to the ground. Putting a hand to his stinging skin, he looked up, as surprised as the other two boys that Rue had slapped him. She looked fierce despite the tears that trailed down her face.

"There's nothing we can do." When she spoke, her voice was tight, choked with the force of her sorrow at having Ahiru so abruptly taken away from her, and with her fear for the other girl. "Right now…all we can do is stop Drosselmeyer…and…hope."

Fakir nodded his head grimly, resigned to avenge Ahiru, for he knew there was no way the delicate girl could survive being tossed about by the powerful wind. The thought made his stomach clench and he turned away from the others toward the staircase, before they could see the tears that fell from his eyes.

XXXXXXX

Ahiru yelped as she was slammed to the ground, her head colliding with an audible crack against the hard road. Stars danced across her vision, and black began to consume her consciousness. She eventually gave up fighting to remain awake, and entered the welcoming, painless darkness.

XXXXXXX

Fakir punched the wall, feeling the skin of his knuckles break even as the joints popped at the impact.

They had reached the top of the clock tower, only to find that the machine was nowhere to be found. The outline was still visible against the wall, the only place not coated with dust besides the previous prints left behind by Autor.

"What does this mean?" Mytho said to no one in particular. Autor did not respond, examining the place where the machine had previously stood.

"I'm not sure," the bespectacled teen answered, "but it could mean that Drosselmeyer has decided to hide his machine from us."

"Curse that evil, twisted, wretched man," Rue's voice was saturated in loathing.

XXXXXX

"_Hmph! Surely you do not think I am stupid enough to let the machine stay in the same place, do you? Ah…tragedy. To have the girl you love wrenched from in your grasp…the knowledge that you could not save her. Wallow in it, young Fakir…knowing that you could not save the girl from even the wind. It's shameful really… Oh! Delightful tragedy!" _ Drosselmeyer basked in the anguish emanating from the ex-knight.

XXXXXX

When Ahiru finally awoke, it took her a minute to register her surroundings. Despite her pounding head, she attempted to recall what had transpired before she blacked out. She remembered hitting hard ground…but now she seemed to be lying on something soft, with a blanket over her.

She moaned softly when she turned her head. A woman sitting by the fire turned towards the young girl at the sound. The woman was slightly plump, with silver-streaked auburn hair pulled back in a bun, and green eyes, twinkling with a youthfulness that seemed out of place in the aging skin of her face.

"Oh, why, hello there darling! I was beginning to think you would never wake up!" She woman shuffled over, readjusting the blankets around the girl. "Do you know where you are, sweet pea?"

"Um…no." Ahiru was puzzled. She tried, against her pounding headache, to remember what had happened before she had hit the ground. But she couldn't recall anything before that…she just drew a blank. And that bothered her, as she had a sense that at the moment, she should be frantic to complete something, but for the life of her, she just couldn't remember what.

"Tsk, tsk. Oh, well. You did hit your head. Do you not remember me at all? After all, I am your mother."

"No…I'm…I'm sorry. What's my name?"

"Your name is Carlotta, my darling. If you feel like getting up, I have some stew made. Are you hungry?"

Ahiru's stomach answered for her, growling loudly. The woman, Estelle, giggled girlishly and walked back over to a pot bubbling over the fire. She scooped up some of the stew and sat down beside Ahiru's bed.

"Here, Carlotta, let mumsy feed you. After all, you're hurt. Let mumsy take care of you, my darling little girl."

Ahiru complied with Estelle's wishes, and when she was finished, Estelle helped her get up. Satisfied that the girl wasn't going to collapse, the woman pulled out a large copper bathtub.

"You're filthy, my darling sweet pea. You should take a bath, and then mumsy will help you pick out some clothes, and then we'll see about your hair."

After Estelle deemed her clean, Ahiru was whisked out of the tub and sat in a cotton chemise, warming by the fire.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. This hair…shall we just cut it?"

"If you think that is best…Mother."

"Yes, yes. It's too long…so hard to manage. Besides, Carlotta, you've always like your hair shorter."

Estelle spent the next half hour combing the knots out of the long, red hair. Then she took a pair of scissors, and lock by lock, snipped off the hair, which fluttered to the floor to join the growing pile of auburn at their feet.

**That's it for now!**

**Yes, yes…Ahiru gets a haircut! Don't worry…Estelle is a good beautician…she won't look ugly. What will happen now that the other four think Ahiru is dead? *cue dramatic music***


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: "The Tragedy of Estelle" is related to this. Please read it to understand why Estelle is acting like she is. **

The four teenagers sat at the table in Charon's house, not speaking, lost in their own thoughts. Fakir's were by far the most agonized. He had had the girl he was in love with wrenched from his very grasp. And now, he couldn't even think about how he was to avenge her loss. The image of her terrorized face was burned into his memory, and the scene of her small body flying through the cruel wind kept replaying in a loop through his tortured mind.

XXXXX

Drosselmeyer was unaware that Ahiru had survived being thrown about by the tornado. His influence reached only Gold Crown Town, but then he, in his twisted afterlife, could see no further. He smirked in triumph as he continued to compose other tragedies; his revenge on the boy was over with for now.

XXXXX

Ahiru, unaware at the pain her disappearance had caused, was sitting in a small garden with Estelle, who she believed to be her mother. The ethereal perfume of roses surrounded them as Estelle guided Ahiru's clumsy hand with a needle and thread. The girl gave a startled yelp as the needle pricked her finger…again.

"Silly, silly little Carlotta. Let Mumsy kiss it and make it all better." Ahiru relinquished her injured finger to Estelle, who pressed it to her lips. "Now, sit up straight." Ahiru complied, straightening her spine and crossing her feet beneath her demurely. She was the very picture of a proper young lady.

Ahiru was dressed in a cherry blossom sundress and her feet were clad in small white slippers. Her hair, newly shorn, fell in dainty curls around her shoulders, barely reaching past the very tops of her arms. This was a stark contrast to her previously waist-long hair.

"Ah…my beautiful Carlotta. You're the prettiest rose in Mumsy's garden." Ahiru blushed at the phrase, but not in the same way she would have before. Her face did not turn a dark red, but instead took on a becoming pink shade across her cheek bones.

Over the next four months, Ahiru's personality was dramatically altered. No longer did she behave like a duck, instead, under Estelle's watchful eye and careful training, she was molded into the ideal young woman. She was modest and shy; never speaking unless spoken to, and never raising her voice. Estelle taught her all of the feminine arts she knew, including teaching Ahiru how to play the flute. She took small, deliberate steps, not rushing to be anywhere, and Estelle cultured in the girl a natural grace. Ahiru had become the exact opposite of the previous duck-girl; the very epitome of a demure young lady.

Only one thing remained of the previous Ahiru: her love of ballet. Estelle enrolled her in the private tutelage of a prima ballerina just a week after finding the young girl. After 4 months under the watchful eye of Madame, having every mistake adjusted and critiqued, Ahiru had become a dancer to rival even Rue. Not that she even knew who Rue was at the time.

Another month went by and Madame consulted Estelle when she came to pick Ahiru up from one of her daily 3-hour lessons that she received seven days a week.

"Mizzes Estelle…I do not zink zat zere is anymore zat I can teach zey girl," the Madame said in her thick French accent, "I vould suggest enrolling her in a more prestigious academy."

Estelle flushed with pride at the praise of her "daughter."

"Could you suggest one, Madame Le'Brouge? I fear I am unfamiliar with the world of dance."

"Zertainly. Why…Carlotta vould be an obvious choice for the special ballet class at the nearby academy of the arts."

"Oh? And where is this academy?"

"Gold Crown Town, Mizzes Estelle. They are just enrolling now for the fall and winter semester."

XXXXX

Fakir trudged to the Academy, lacking even the vivacity to life his feet from the ground. It had been five months since Ahiru had been whisked away in the tornado, and life had only gotten worse for the residents of Gold Crown Town since then, once again part of Drosselmeyer's tragedy. Not that Fakir cared.

Without Ahiru in his life, it was hard to care about anything. His face had grown thin and sallow from lack of eating. Charon was upset as well at the loss of the Ahiru, who had become like a daughter to him. But Fakir had been affected worse. His eyes had grown dull and black circles constantly resided beneath them. At first he had tried to write stories about Ahiru, but after the 27th failed attempt, he gave up. Not being able to write a story about her could mean only one thing: Ahiru was dead. It felt like someone had punched Fakir in the stomach and then ripped his heart to shreds.

Not even dancing could fill the empty gap in Fakir's chest that Ahiru had filled. His dance was filled with silent agony, heartbreak, and loneliness. Ms. Katt, who was their new dance instructor, had tried to confront the boy, but to no avail. He evaded her every question with silence, and merely stared at her blankly. Fakir lacked the desire to do his work, and his grades suffered because of it.

Mytho, Rue, and Autor still searched for Drosselmeyer's machine after school and at every available opportunity in between. At first, they had included Fakir, but after a while had abandoned trying. He just slowed them down, his presence oppressive and dark. They mourned as well for Ahiru, but still sought out to avenge her demise by stopping Drosselmeyer.

XXXXX

Ahiru walked around the campus beside Estelle, her eyes as wide as saucers at the marvel of such a large establishment. But something bothered her…this entire town seemed so familiar to her. She had asked Estelle about this, but the woman had looked at her with a trace of-what…fear?-before telling her that was impossible. She had never been here before. Reluctantly, Ahiru accepted this, behaving like a good girl so her mother would be pleased.

"And this is the ballet building." Their guide, Mr. Gote-tett, opened the door to the building as he spoke. Ahiru inhaled the smell of satin and grip powder that filled the air; the smell awakened a strange sense of homesickness, which puzzled the girl.

Mr. Gote-tett proceeded to point out all of the achievements lined up along the wall of the building. Foremost among them was the picture of a dark-haired girl with crimson eyes. The sight of the girl sent a strange feeling of remembrance through Ahiru.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Oh! That would be our wonderful student, Rue. She's back from a tour around the world, actually. You'll have to meet her tomorrow unfortunately, as I believe she has already retired to her room."

Mr. Gote-tett introduced Estelle and Ahiru to Ms. Katt, who looked at Ahiru strangely.

"I could have sworn…but no…that's impossible."

"What is it, Ms. Katt?" Ahiru asked politely.

"It's nothing…you just…remind me of a former student of mine." All thought of the resemblance was washed from Ms. Katt's mind, however, when she saw Ahiru dance. The clumsy student who had so suddenly un-enrolled could have never possessed the grace that the girl in front of her did. Her dancing was equal to-no, greater than-Rue's.

Ahiru spun to a final stop, dipping into a curtsey at the applause of her small audience. She blushed with modest pleasure and walked calmly to go change.

Later on that night, after settling into the loft that had been vacated by a student who had recently switched out of the ballet division, Ahiru stared out at the grounds, her chin cupped in her hand. What was it about this place that seemed so familiar? She had never been here before, but still…everything about this place…it was like déjà vu.

Finally deciding to let the matter go, Ahiru curled up in the seemingly all-too-familiar bed and fell asleep, her dreams haunted by a dark haired knight with green eyes.

XXXXXX

Back in his realm of cogs, Drosselmeyer had not even noticed the return of Ahiru to his area of control. He was still satisfied at his seemingly-victorious triumph over Fakir.

XXXXX

The next morning, Ahiru woke at 5:15 sharp. She dressed and headed down to the cafeteria to get an early breakfast. She was pleased to note that no one else was up yet. She did not think of herself as an exceptionally gregarious person, as Estelle had told her she always preferred solitude.

After a light breakfast of bread, cheese, and fruit, Ahiru changed into a leotard, twisting her short hair into a tight bun, and began warming up in the practice room as the first rays of sun kissed the horizon with their golden touch.

Half-way through a repetition of battement degage, Ahiru was interrupted in her strenuous routine by a group of three coming into the doorway. She recognized the red-eyed ballerina from the pictures in the hall, and she seemed to be arguing with a boy whose dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A youth with white hair and golden eyes seemed to be on the same side as the ballerina; Ahiru assumed that must be the ballerina's danseur, based solely on the way they interacted with one another.

"I told you already! I'm fine!" The ponytailed boy was turned in profile to Ahiru, and none of the three had noticed her yet.

"You most certainly are not fine!" The ballerina argued with frustration clear on her face. Ahiru cleared her throat politely to alert them to her presence in the room. As the three turned to her, Ahiru noticed with detached interest that they seemed shocked to see her. She walked over with a dignified grace and extended her hand.

"Hello. My name is Carlotta. It's very nice to meet all of you." She smiled up at them.

XXXXXX

"A-Ahiru…?" Fakir choked out, not allowing himself to believe that she was in front of him. She frowned, consternation on her face for merely a second before an empty, polite smile took its place.

"No…like I said, my name is Carlotta. This is my first day here…but already two girls have called me that name yesterday. One with blonde hair and one with pink. Liqe and Pillie…no…oh! Piqe and Lillie, that's their names."

The three remained frozen in place. Ahiru frowned slightly but then turned away. "If you'll excuse me," she said primly, walking over to continue on her training.

The three other teenagers stood there, watching in disbelief as the red head continued on with her dancing. It was graceful and dignified…but…wrong, somehow. It no longer possessed the same happiness that it once had. Now it was just technically correct, with empty emotions. The girl in front of them wasn't the same either.

Her once friendly nature was gone, replaced with a learned poise. The long red hair that used to be braided back was twisted back in a bun, not a hair out of place. Even the one strand that used to stick straight up had been contained. Her wild bangs had been cut, and now framed her face in a perfect straight line. Everything about her was refined, dignified…and wrong.

**That's it for now you guys! Domo Arigato for reading everyone! :D Please review with what you think I should do better! **


	6. Chapter 6

Fakir stared at Ahiru, his mouth agape.

"A-Ahiru…" he whispered, not allowing himself to clutch to this hope too tightly. He shook his head, determined that he was seeing things. It wasn't possible…but…there she was…right in front of him. He watched her spin around and leap, before he slid down the wall and landed on the floor in a sitting position. He held his head in his hands.

"Um…are you alright?" He looked up…right into her blue eyes. They were the same vibrant blue as ever…but they lacked the sparkled they used to contain. His heart twisted when he noticed this; what had Drosselmeyer done to her?

"Ahiru…how…when…why…" He took a deep breath, trying to organize his flying thoughts. "What are you doing here?" She pursed her lips.

"First of all…my name is Carlotta. _Carlotta_, got it? C-A-R-L-O-T-T-A." She spelled it out for him, perturbed at his apparent lack of short-term memory. "And second of all: what I am doing here is none of your concern, and I would like very much for you to mind your own business. You are a stranger to me, and acting so genial is just weird. Who befriends utter strangers?"

"You used to…" Rue muttered, shocked at how Ahiru had been speaking to Fakir.

XXXXX

When the school day was finished, Fakir burst out of his writing class. It had taken him the whole school day to reconcile himself to the fact that Ahiru was actually alive…even though she was calling herself Carlotta for some strange reason.

Spotting a dot of red near the ballet building, he dashed towards it, mowing down several unfortunate bystanders in his mad dash to Ahiru.

"A-Ahiru," he panted, catching his breath; he had run across the entire campus when he had seen her. "Do you…want to…come to my house? Charon will…want to see you…"

When he straightened, he noticed that Ahiru looked scandalized. This puzzled him. She coughed lightly before replying.

"Well…I appreciate the offer. However, as I have only met you today, do not even know your name, do not who this "Charon" you speak of is…I fear that I shall have to decline your offer."

She walked away primly, her hair bouncing along in curls. All of the sudden, she turned around and said, "I believe we have covered this before, but I feel the need to remind you. I do not know who this Ahiru is, however, I am not her. My name is Carlotta. Hmph!"

"But you are her…" he whispered as he watched her walk away.

XXXXX

Ahiru shut the door to her room, and then leaned her head against it. She had had a throbbing headache since she had met the three ballet students this morning. They had looked so familiar, did she know them? A foggy scrap of memory came back, but with the return of the throbbing, it vanished.

"Ugh! Oh, well. I am here for ballet. I do not have time to befriend people, and then help them with every single problem they have. Especially that Fakir. I don't know who this Ahiru is, but if she means that much to him…he should go and find her himself!"

Unaware of the irony of her own words, Ahiru sat down, beginning on her homework.

XXXXX

Rue was sitting in the window of her private suite at the academy. She looked out over the grounds, frowning. Ahiru's behavior this morning was troubling. It was like she was a completely different person now. The way she had talked to Fakir…the Ahiru she knew would never speak that way…most especially to Fakir!

She contemplated this for a while, chewing her lip. A soft knock from the door brought her out of her reverie.

"Come in," she called. She smiled softly when she saw that it was Mytho. Ever since they had gotten back, the teachers had no problem that they visited each other, as long as it was during daylight hours. Her smile faded when she saw how tired he looked.

"No luck?" She asked. Mytho had been out with Autor looking for the machine. Rue had decided not to go; since Ahiru was back, she was hoping to get some extra practice time in.

"No. I fear that we'll never find it." Rue walked over to her prince, embracing him. He hugged her back gently, his strong arms enveloping her. She breathed in his smell…it was something that couldn't be described with words…it was clean, and soft, and gentle. But definitely Mytho. She always felt so safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could ever harm her when he held her.

But after a minute or so, she broke away. She felt guilty about enjoying her time with Mytho when Fakir was miserable, and Ahiru…well…wasn't Ahiru. Turning back to the window, she watched Fakir dash across the lawn. She was puzzled until he saw his target: Ahiru.

Mytho hugged her from behind, and she had to remind herself to focus. He rested his head on her shoulder before noticing the confrontation arising between his knight and his savior. Together, the couple watched the conversation play out.

They couldn't hear what was being said, but by Ahiru's expression (fuming), and Fakir's expression (devastated)…it hadn't gone so well. She sighed heavily. What if Ahiru was too far gone? They didn't know what had happened…but if she willing to yell at Fakir…then would they ever get the Ahiru they knew and loved back?

Mytho, hearing his princess's sigh and guessing her thoughts, kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Don't worry, love, it will turn out all right. Everything will be fine."

Looking back into his warm golden eyes, Rue tried to make herself believe it.

XXXXX

Fakir trudged home, his head down, and his shoulders slumped. A crack of lightening, and the sky opened up, sending down a torrential downpour from the heavens. How suiting, he thought wryly. When he got home, Charon had left a note on the counter: "Be back Saturday. Working out of town. Be good. Food on stove." It was Monday…so it would be 5 days until his adoptive father got back.

He set the note back on the counter and moved to set his books out on the table. Not that he really had any heart or desire to do them, but because he needed a distraction. Unfortunately, though, the homework was simple and didn't require his full attention. He was done within 10 minutes.

His head flopped down on the table, coming to rest on his arms. Immediately, his thoughts turned to Ahiru. He imagined her, jumping around the kitchen, trying to help; sweeping up the floor, hanging out sheets before getting tangled up in them and needing his help…tripping over her feet, or a chair, or dustpan, or a perfectly flat, stable surface. He had to chuckle. Only she would be able to do such a thing.

A tear came to his eye and slid down his cheek, plopping onto the wood table. What was worse? Believing she was dead, but still having memories of her? Or having her, but knowing that something inside of her was dead?

XXXXX

Banging on her drum, Uzura marched down an alley way.

"Where am I zura? I'm lost zura…"

The confused puppet girl looked around, and, spying a red head, ran towards her.

"Ahiru zura! You're back zura! Where did you go zura? No one would tell me zura!" She enunciated the last sentence with drum beats.

The red head in question looked down at the child, smiling gently. She didn't even comment about her name being Carlotta. She kneeled so that she would be at the child's level.

"And who might you be, sweet pea?" She had picked up the endearment from Estelle. Uzura looked puzzled.

"I'm Uzura zura! Why are you calling me sweet pea zura? You never call me that zura! Do you call Fakir that zura? Does it mean lovey dovey zura?"

Ahiru frowned at the mention of the black-haired teenager. "Well…Uzura…" she said, "I really must be going now. Where are you supposed to be? I'll take you home."

Uzura frowned, but complied, telling her Charon's address like Fakir had taught her to do after several dozen tries. "Are you going home to be lovey dovey zura?"

Ahiru flushed. Really? What was with this child? Ahiru decided to ask the girl's parents when she took her home. After several wrong turns (Uzura should never be trusted with directions), they finally made it to Fakir's house. Ahiru was soaked to the bone, and her small body was shuddering from the cold.

When they climbed up the steps, Ahiru had to place one hand against the doorframe, and the other against her head. She swayed slightly. Uh oh, she thought. She had a fever. She decided to go to the nurse when she got back to the academy.

Ahiru was about to knock on the door when Uzura decided that beating her drum as loud as she possibly could would be far more appropriate. Ahiru's head ached, and spots began to gather on her vision. She felt slightly queasy, and swayed as the earth moved under feet.

When at last the door opened, she was surprised to see Fakir. But Fakir was even more surprised when Ahiru collapsed fowards into his arms, unconscious. He caught her, and picked her up bridal-style.

"Uzura?" He asked. "What's the matter with Ahiru?" He tried to keep the strain out of voice, but the puppet girl still picked up on it.

"I don't know zura! Is she sick zura? You can't be lovey dovey if she's sick zura!"

Fakir chose to ignore the latter statement, and set Ahiru down gently on the sofa. His shirt was now soaked through from holding her. Her clothes were saturated, and he put a hand to her head. Trying to quell the rising panic, he got up to get some clean cloths. She was burning up with a fever.

With cool cloths in tow, he kneeled beside her sleeping form. However, she didn't look peaceful. Her face was pinched as though in great discomfort and in the few minutes it had taken to get the cloths, she had already started sweating, making her even more saturated.

"She needs to get out of these clothes." He mumbled to himself, then froze, turning red when he realized how that sounded out loud. Glancing over, he was relieved that Uzura was gathering more cloths in an attempt to help him. Good…that was one thing he definitely did not need her repeating!

"You want to take off Ahiru's clothes zura?" Crap…she had heard him. He turned even redder, and went back to mopping off Ahiru's forehead. But of course, Uzura couldn't let the matter drop.

"But then won't she be nak-"

"Alright! That's enough, I'm going to go call Rue." Fakir shot up as he said this and walked to the phone in the kitchen. His face was cherry-red, and it took him a moment to find his voice when Rue answered.

"Um…hi." He felt awkward…they hadn't exactly had a great relationship in the past. "Ahiru's over here, and I-"

"Fakir wants Ahiru to take her clothes off zura!" Uzura shouted from background. "I think it must be about being lovey dovey zura!" She added innocently.

"…I'M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW!" Rue shouted into the phone before the line clicked off. Fakir placed it back on the cradle before turning to the puppet girl who was staring up at him from the floor, completely unaware that Rue was now likely to kill him.

"Thanks a bunch there, Uzura…" he mumbled.

"You're welcome zura!" She said brightly, before turning back to the living room and going to Ahiru. Fakir wondered again what the heck Charon had been thinking when he made a puppet girl…

**Okay! That's it for now! I decided to reward you guys for the long wait. It was only going to be half this long, but I decided to add more. Sorry about the wait…writer's block seriously sucks…please review so I can improve. **

**Haha…I love Uzura… ;D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hiya guys! I just thought I'd tell you a little about Ahiru's injuries. There seems to be a little confusion, so I thought I'd clarify…**

**Ahiru at the moment is suffering from post-concussive syndrome. This was brought on when she hit her head on the ground after being flung about by the tornado. Symptoms of post-concussive syndrome include: **

**-Headaches (check!)**

**-Personality Changes (check!) Including getting angry for no apparent reason (check!)**

**-Dizziness when standing or sitting (Check!)**

**It can take weeks to months for these symptoms to appear, and to go away. Rest is the best treatment, however…Ahiru hasn't been doing that, what with the ballet, learning a whole new way to live…etc. **

**Check out WebMD for more information! Okay…back to reading! Please read, enjoy, and review! **

When Rue arrived at the antique shop, Fakir let Uzura answer the door. He had enough sense of self-preservation that he didn't want to confront her without explaining Uzura's "helpfulness" earlier.

The crimson-eyed princess walked into the room, her eyes sharp and alert. When she spotted Ahiru, her eyes softened before she looked back to Fakir, arching one eyebrow to indicate that he should explain.

"Her clothes are soaking wet. I said she needed to get out of them, which is why I called you. However, Uzura, over here," Fakir indicated the puppet with a nod of his head, "decided to interpret it her own way and be oh-so-helpful when I called you."

"Helpful zura!" The puppet chirped from her post beside Ahiru.

"Hmph. Fine, if that's what happened…then I suppose that I don't need to throttle you…for now."

XXXXX

Two hours later, Fakir sat on the bed beside Ahiru's sleeping form. He had moved her to her old room at Rue's suggestion, and Rue had also changed her into some dry clothes.

He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, and his touch lingered on her soft cheek, still warm to the touch from her fever.

"Ahiru," he sighed, withdrawing his hand and rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm.

He was tired. Drop-dead, bone-weary, can-barely-think-straight-yet-alone-form-a-coherent-thought, tired. It was all too much. The sudden reappearance of Ahiru, her claiming to be someone named Carlotta, snapping at him, and being so…so…not Ahiru. She was like an anti-Ahiru now.

But for the moment, at least, she was once again his Ahiru. His clumsy, loud, naïve, loveable, joyful, hopeful Ahiru. The Ahiru that he loved more than his own life.

He let his thoughts wander about his relationship with the girl lying on the bed in front of him. His mind was tired, and so the memories came, unbidden, as they always did when Fakir wasn't focused.

Ahiru, laughing by the lake in a pair of yellow shorts and a turtleneck sweater. Ahiru, bustling around the kitchen, not really helping…being counter-productive in fact, by simple virtue of her Ahiru-ness. He had to chuckle softly at that.

Rue, watching from the doorway, observed the scene with soft eyes. He loved her. From the way he looked at her, Rue knew Fakir loved Ahiru. And she also knew that it was killing him to have her not remember who she was; killing him to see her act nothing like the girl they all knew and loved.

She knew, because it was killing her inside too. And so it was that Rue decided the time had come to pay back her debt to Ahiru, to give Ahiru the happiness that the duck-turned-girl had given to all of the people of Gold Crown Town.

XXXXXXXX

"Drosselmeyer!" Rue called.

"_So once again, the Raven girl, in all of her glory, called to the story teller." _Drosselmeyer's voice was mocking, scornful towards the princess.

"I have a proposition for you," she said, "if you are willing to take it."

"_A proposition, you say? My…how intriguing…" _Drosselmeyer's interest had been captured.

"Ahiru is back, but-"

"_WHAT? But at last! I had enacted my revenge! Very well, then this time I'll-"_

"No!" Rue cut him off, piqued at his interruption. "No," she repeated, "Ahiru is not the same. She has changed. It is almost…" her voice lowered to almost a whisper, "almost as if she has lost her heart."

"_And what about your proposition, Princess of the Ravens?"_

"I want you to return Ahiru to the way she was."

"_Tsk, tsk. Surely you do not expect to get something for nothing? Foolishness, Raven Princess, foolishness…"_

"No, not for free." Rue swallowed around the lump in her throat. If she didn't say it soon, she was going to lose her nerve. "If you restore Ahiru to the way she was-the way she should be as a human!-then, I'll…I'll…"

"_Yes? Yes?" _Drosselmeyer materialized a pair of eyes to stare at her with. Rue did not even flinch, looking straight into them.

"Take me instead. If you restore Ahiru, then take my heart. I'll give it freely if it means that Ahiru can be happy." She glared at the eyes, every inch a regal princess. Every inch, Mytho's princess.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it took so long to update! School, plus another fanfic I'm doing, plus the fact that I have a deadline to keep for the first 50 pages of my novel…needless to say…I've been busy…**

**Enjoy!**

Rue was aware of only a hot pain, as though a heated knife were being plunged into her breast. Next came a horrible ripping feeling. She faintly heard someone screaming, and, surprised, discovered it was her. But she was powerless to stop it, so consumed was she by the agony.

And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped. But after the initial wave of relief, cool and soothing, came the horrid emptiness, as painful as the hot ripping sensation. But it didn't bother her, not really, not as long as she didn't focus on it. She felt nothing, she wanted nothing, she thought nothing…in all essence, she was nothing.

XXX

Drosselmeyer, cackling greedily to himself as he held a necklace in his hand, examined the beautiful pendant suspended on the delicate black metal chain. The center was of three pure white opals clustered together, the core of Rue's heart that was untainted and full of love, kindness, and hope. Surrounding the perfect opals were small, black, glass feathers; the Raven-enhanced emotions of jealousy, malice, anger, greediness, and arrogance. But the feathers had begun to lighten, and the center of each contained a small line of white, the result of Ahiru's influence and Mytho's love, as well as Rue's own determination to overcome the darkness.

"_I haven't the faintest idea what the Raven Princess was speaking of in regards to my returning that duck to her former memories. I was not even aware that she was still alive. Oh well, from the offer I was presented, it seems all of my characters are suffering plenty, best to let them simmer in the misery for a while. I do, after all, have other stories to orchestrate." _

And so, Rue's sacrifice had been for nothing. The old mad man could not be stirred to pity anyone, especially characters he felt had simply become unruly.

XXX

Mytho squinted into the distance. There was something lying on the cobblestones in the street. His heart leapt up to his throat and he dashed to Rue when he recognized it as his princess.

He turned her onto her back gently, noting with relief that she was still breathing.

"Rue? Love? What's the matter? Are you injured?"

She didn't respond, staring blankly up at the sky, with a dull, unaffected gaze. Had Fakir been the one to find her, he would have recognized the look for what it was: the absence of a heart. Mytho, however, had not actually seen someone without a heart, and missed the sign.

Lifting Rue into his arms gently, he carried her to the Nurse at the Academy, who checked her over and said that nothing seemed to be the matter. She suggested that perhaps Rue simply needed to rest.

Rue, throughout this exchange, sat quietly on the cot, only half-listening to the conversation. She was aware that they were talking about her, but she didn't care. When it seemed that the white-haired boy wanted her to follow him, she complied, allowing herself to be led to a comfortable-looking room.

She laid down on the bed and closed her eyes, instantly asleep. That was the one positive result of being heartless: with no worries to cloud your mind, you fell asleep when you felt you were supposed to.

Mytho, still concerned, blew out the candle and pressed a gentle kiss to Rue's cheek. Her flesh was cold, but Mytho chalked it up to having laid on the street for a while before he had found her. He shut the door behind himself, looking one last time at his princess, sleeping soundly and dreamlessly on her canopied bed.

XXX

Ahiru woke slowly, her eyes blinking into the awareness that she was warm and comfortable, despite the headache that still held tyranny over her. She heard the soft breathing of someone and nearly yelped in surprise when she realized that Fakir had fallen asleep while sitting up beside her.

Too sore to motivate herself to move, she instead chose to watch Fakir. He looked so peaceful asleep. His face was smooth, and he smiled slightly as he dreamed (he was, in fact, dreaming of Ahiru). The light of the fire place gave a warmth to his face, hiding the paleness and thinness that had come with his worry of Ahiru. She reached out gently, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear that had fallen from his ponytail. His hair was soft, and her fingertips lingered there for a second before tracing down his cheek to his lips. There they hovered slightly before she realized what she was doing and withdrew her hand.

His lips looked so soft, like they were asking to be kissed, to kiss her and- 'No! No! Stop right here! Mother would be disappointed if she knew you were thinking this! New thoughts! New thoughts!' Her conscience railed against her, chastising her. Ahiru blushed slightly.

When she sat up, she realized that she was no longer wearing the same clothes. Her blush darkened even further. Uzura walked through the door at that moment, and grinned widely at Ahiru!

"Ahiru zura!" She chirped.

"Shhh," Ahiru chided.

"Sorry," Uzura said in a stage whisper. "Are you better now zura? You fell asleep zura! Fakir wanted to take your clothes off zura. Rue came and changed your clothes zura!"

Ahiru felt a small amount of relief that Fakir had not been the one to change her into dry clothes. She stepped carefully from the bed, and retrieved her clothes from where they were hanging over a chair.

"Uzura, is there somewhere I could change into my school uniform?" Uzura nodded and led Ahiru to the bathroom.

When she was done changing, Ahiru smoothed down her hair and stepped into the hallway. Fakir was still asleep where she had left him, and, as an afterthought, she tucked a woolen afghan around his shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. She quickly gave him a peck on the cheek and scurried from the house and towards the academy, leaving Uzura staring after her with wide, innocent eyes.

XXX

Fakir pressed a hand to his cheek, a cherry-red blush tinting his face. He had woken up when she had started moving around and had pretended to be asleep. He hadn't known she was going to kiss him!

But at the same time, it gave him a small amount of hope. Perhaps she was remembering who she was after all? He clutched to the idea like a drowning man.

**That's all for now you guys! I was going to make it longer, but this seemed like the perfect place to cut it off! Please review! **


	9. Chapter 9

Hey you guys. I just wanted to thank all of you for reading, and I wanted to tell you that nitza-mozelle has graciously adopted . Thank you for following me for this long, and please continue reading!

-PenAndInkPrincess


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